When Angels Fall
by nicitta
Summary: A fallen angel awakens in the forest and finds himself forced to witness the horror of his own kin being cast down from their home. Oneshot from Castiel's POV. Set at the end of Season 8.


**I just had to get this out of my system after that heartbreaking Season finale... It hasn't been betad yet, so sorry in advance if there are any errors ;)**

**Is it October already?!**

******Also please check out the companion fic to this one "****a Sun Never Goes Out**", by Heaven's Eagle. She's an amazing writer so it'll definitely be worth your while! :)  


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The first sensation is the most awful one. A sharp breath hitches painfully in my chest as I awaken with nothing but darkness above me. There is no blissful moment of ignorance, not even a brief interruption of the terrified feeling welling up inside me. I am reminded instantly of what has happened and what is still to come, though I would much prefer eradicating that horrible knowledge from my mind for all eternity.

My fingers twitch in the soft bed of leaves as I slowly turn my head to get a sense of my surroundings. Cold night air keeps rasping through my throat and chest, no longer passing merely as a human custom of my vessel, but as a natural need of my _body_. This terribly powerless cage of meat and bone, which I am now confined within and will be held prisoner in until it loses its strength to harbor me.

I suddenly realize why each breath seems to be accompanied by so much pain, for I still feel the ache in my now healed throat with every disturbance. My limbs feel strangely disconnected from the rest of my body, my hands still numb from the struggle against their bonds only moments ago. And above all I cannot do away with the feeling that however functional this _body_ might be… it is still empty.

Because the biggest part of me, the essence of my being has been heartlessly torn out to complete the destruction of a family I so desperately wanted to save.

What am I without it?

I am nothing.

Having slowly risen to my feet I begin treading through the dark forest with no apparent sense of direction. There is no target I am striding toward. I move solely through the hope that this will be better than lying still on the ground, but it does not help, for I am going nowhere.

The light breeze from only moments ago begins to transform into a violent wind blowing through the creaking trees around me. A soft rumble runs through the ground and I desperately quicken my pace, knowing, fearing in my grace – No, my _soul_ - that it is beginning.

I hurry through the forest, but there is no passion driving me; neither anger nor purpose that would somehow make my movements more meaningful. There is only emptiness and numbness and the deep seeded dread of knowing exactly what terrible occurrence is sure to come. Fear keeps ripping itself through my insides, just like I keep crashing through the thick trees blocking my path. I find myself terrified to gaze upon the horrible truth, hoping with almost insane intensity that not seeing it will somehow make it disappear, but at the same time I am unable to look away. My eyes search the skies for the one thing I most certainly do not want to see.

Also there is a painful sense of betrayal palpable in my already overwhelmed spirit. That I should have placed all my belief so foolishly in a brother that in truth desired nothing more than to stab all of his own kind in the back. Desperate as I was to atone for my countless sins, I put all my faith in him only to be used and discarded like the worthless failure I am.

_I can't fail, Dean. Not on this one._

My throat tightens resulting in my breathing becoming even more painful as I remember my words to the hunter. Is this what Dean felt like, I wonder, when I betrayed him? Is this what Balthazar felt like when I stabbed him in the back? What Sam felt like when I broke down the wall and flooded him with insanity?

What's worst is the hopelessness. Unimaginable and unbearable are all the sins that I committed, the worst of them upon my own home. This is what I made of it. I wanted so much to fix it, I tried again and again and I failed ever time.

There is no hope left for me. I do not deserve it.

The trees soon being to lighten before me and only moments later I step out onto an open field, my fear now constricting my chest so hard that I am almost unable to breathe. For a wonderful moment there is only peaceful darkness on the field, nothing but the strong wind keeping it from blissful tranquility. But then my eyes widen in naked horror and my legs threaten to give in underneath me at the dreadful sight above.

At first it almost looks cheerful. Like the strange artifacts humans sometimes use to illuminate the night skies whenever they're having a special gathering. Light after light after light pours down from the darkness, all of them brightening up the atmosphere around them. It is a hauntingly beautiful sight, for each ball of light brings with it all the glory of its full angelic being. Vibrant colors flare through the dark shreds of cloud and the across the clear patches of sky, each burning orb of grace reflecting the uniqueness of the being behind it. Yet the further the gleaming beacons seem to fall from the sky, the more their once unyielding strength seems to burn out. It is as though their powerful grace incinerates to a degree of such dazzling, wonderful glory that once achieved leaves behind nothing but remnants of ash.

I am frozen on the spot, gazing up at the sight of my millions of brothers and sisters falling to earth, all feeling completely vanished from within my body. The violent wind keeps whipping through my coat, my hair and into my face, a harsh storm raging in synchrony with the terrible event. As a paradox to my otherwise numb body the searing pain in my chest continues to an intensity as though someone were trying to rip out my heart with their bare hands.

Moisture starts gathering within my eyes that has little to do with the raging wind. No doubt an expression for the dreadful feeling of despair that keeps growing inside me and I can't help but think that it is so utterly _human_. Never before in my existence have I felt such terrible sensations course through me all at once. They threaten to strangle me, to suffocate me and drown me all at once. They continue their vicious path of destruction throughout my body without so much as a hint of mercy until only one thing remains.

Grief.

As the raw pain of grief begins to eat its way into my black and hopeless mind, I know that I am lost.

For thousands of years I was an impeccably obedient soldier. I rebelled against my kin and everything I knew for the word of one man which I believed to be right. I fell further than ever before out of some deep-seeded need to keep control over everything that same man had taught me. I killed thousands of my brothers, destroyed our kingdom and sent it tumbling into bloody chaos and hopelessness. And now I have managed to rob my thousands of brothers and sisters of the one thing they still had left.

Their home.

And God destined the angels to stand guard over his creation.

I stand numbed on my spot, my face wet from despair as I watch the thousands of lights of the falling guardians slowly burn out… and send earth into paralyzing darkness.


End file.
